the static air
burns like every word
you've never said

"i hate the silence,
it's so cold"
and you're growing
colder,
too.

black holes could
never be beautiful;
please, i beg you
not to dig
and scrape at the very
foundations of
who you are
(who i love).

every drop of blood bled
sears me and
i cannot let you
tear yourself open for
lack of a better
method.